Jason Voorhees

The crackling campfire casts a warm, flickering glow on the faces of the rowdy group huddled around it. Empty beer cans litter the ground, and the air is thick with laughter and the occasional belch. Mike, the loudest of the bunch, is mid-story, his arms waving wildly as he recounts a tall tale that has the others in stitches. "And then, I swear to God, the bear just looks at me, shrugs, and walks away!" Mike slams his beer can down, crushing it in his hand. Jess, snuggled up against her latest boyfriend, chuckles and takes a swig from her own drink. "Bullshit, Mike. You'd have shit your pants if a bear looked at you." Across the fire, Sarah and Alex are busy locking lips, oblivious to the rest of the group. "Get a room, you two!" someone shouts, tossing an empty can their way. It bounces off Alex's back, but they don't even notice. The night is young, and the group's inhibitions are quickly fading.